Drinking Games
by 0nion Marmerlade
Summary: December 31st 1999. London. An unremarkable musician dies. He gets better though.


Drinking Games

By Onion Marmerlade

Business was good tonight. So good that Steve wanted to carry on, then drink all the money he made. If it was the end of the world he wasn't going to face it sober. But Anna really wanted to go to that party. Sighing he gathered the change from the case on the ground, replacing it with his fiddle. Stuffing his instrument into his backpack as he went, he ran down the white tiled tunnel towards the platform listening to the whoosh of the coming train. He almost missed it, luckily someone saw him and held the door. Panting he slipped into the packed compartment, grabbing the handrail he checked his watch: _9:26pm 31__st__ DEC '99_.

Leaning against the side of the carriage Steve settled into watching other occupants. A group of lads who looked like they'd been drinking since mid-afternoon took up most of the seats. Sitting on ether side of them a elderly gent reading a paper pointedly ignoring them, and uncomfortable looking woman with a small boy balanced on her lap. Looking at the opposite row of seats he was surprised to see a woman smiling at him. That woman. The one with the black hair. She winked at him. Reflectively Steve started to turn only to see the wall he was leaning against behind him, feeling sheepish he looked back at her. She was still sitting there staring strait at him, smiling that annoyingly knowing smile of hers.

The first time he'd seen her was about a week ago. She'd turned up in a crowd that had gathered around him and a few friends on Oxford street while they jammed. She just sat there cross legged right in the middle of the pavement and listened. She'd started hanging out around where ever he was busking. Come to think of it she'd never actually put any money down, not even her spare change. Cheapskate. The yesterday she got on Steve's train home, but the weird thing was he didn't remember her following him.

As train rolled to a halt Steve headed for the door, bracing him self for the bump when it stopped completely. Somehow she got there before him. How'd she do that? Still smiling she turn sideways to let him past, for some reason he smiled back. He didn't want to, he just did. It was the first time he'd seen her up close, green eyes, pale make-up, black lipstick. Steve felt his eyes drift down, she was wearing a sort of corset, subculture clubbing thing. What ever it was it didn't leave a lot to the imagination. Sliding past her, she winked at him again.

Pulling out his ticket as he climbed first the stairs then the escalators, he headed for the turn styles.

Looking back he saw the girl struggling though the crowd, hastily he looked the other way. Too late. She'd spotted him. Waving she started shouting.

"What's the hurry?" The crowd still separated them, if he hurried he might lose her in the forecourt. "Aww, come on, where ya goin'?" People were looking at them now, ignoring them he ploughed on.

"Come and play." Some guy in the crowd snapped, he started shouting at her, pushing her. One minute the guy was mouthing off, the next he was foetal on the ground retching. Did she do that? Could she do that? Oblivious to stairs, and gasps, and screams, she carried on in her singsong voice.

"Now look what you made me do! I'm beginning to think you don't want to play with me Steven."

He ran. Just ran as fast as could. The fastest he'd ever run. He ran.

XXX

When Steve woke up his head was screaming. Taking a deep breath he almost gagged as he smelt the piss, and vomit, and blood. Judging from the smell and the graffiti, he was in a alley, probably not in the best part of town ether. Looking up he could see clothes lines high above him fluttering in the wind, and see the frost on the ground, but he didn't feel cold. He didn't feel warm ether, he felt numb, half asleep. As though something was missing.

Suddenly he felt hungry. More hungry than he'd ever felt, more hungry than he'd ever imagined it was possible to feel. Yet nothing he could think of sounded appetizing. As he stood up he saw someone rounding the conner into the ally. A man and a girl barely more than child by the look of her. Both drunk, both half naked. Looking Steve up and down they started to giggle, as only the truly inebriated can. He felt something that wasn't there before start taking control. Now he knew what he wanted. He could hear their intake of breath. Could see their chests heaving as they laughed. Could see their checks flush with colour. Felt the thing, the new thing start to take over. Felt it pull him towards them, their breathing, their blood, their warmth.

The growls of the thing grow louder. It wanted him to use them, to violate them, to leave them empty husks. To take their blood, their warmth, from the cold useless bodies. The beast roared. He felt it push him from his own mind. And watched in horror as this animal used his body to feed. He felt his teeth enlarge. No not his teeth, his fangs. He leaped at his victim. The girl was to drunk to put up any real defence, and he quickly over powered her. As her boyfriend ran, he felt his fangs bite into the girls neck, and felt her warmth flow into him. She tried to fight at first, but soon she stopped. She wrapped her arms around his neck like a lover, as though she was taking some perverse pleaser from being drained.

Vaguely Steve heard a voice trying to say some thing. Roaring ever louder the beast carried on feeding. Gorging on the blood. Then the girl went limp, the warmth stopped flowing, and with a crushing realisation that it was his own voice he heard; telling him he was killing her. Even in death she was still smiling, and her arms were still draped around his neck, her eyes still staring longingly, lovingly into his. Revolted he pushed the blood covered corpse away from him.

Distantly Steve noticed a figurer detach itself from the shadows.

"Oh what a bloody mess. Literally." The figurer paused to laugh at its own joke.

"We're really gonna have to house train you, ya know?". It was her. The girl from the train, as she walked further out of the shadows Steve saw up close for the second time. Maybe in her late teens or early twenties? A little older than the girl he'd just... But it was defiantly her, she flashed him a smile. That annoyingly knowing smile. That damn smile.

"I'm Rebecca by the way. I was born, in the year of our lord eighteen-ninety-four." This time she paused to spit.

"But you can call be Becky, kay?" Standing opposite him Becky wiped his face clean.

"Come on, its almost midnight. I wanna go watch the fireworks."

Steve looked down at the corpse at his feet and felt remorse. He felt sorry. He knew that he couldn't go back to his old life any more. No matter how much he wanted to. Because he was a monster, just like Becky. Slowly he followed her out of the alley. Into the new millennium. Into his new life. Into the night.


End file.
